


in the last place i look

by owedbetter



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Podfic Length: 1-1.5 Hours, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28619796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owedbetter/pseuds/owedbetter
Summary: One of them has never been on a date before.(Podfic available onSpotify!)
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 174





	in the last place i look

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asamisaht0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asamisaht0/gifts).



> Jaz's prompts were College AU (they're college age, she's 21 and he's 23; that counts), fake dating, first kiss, and fluff. Jaz also said she didn't want angst but like... that was just not going to happen. 
> 
> This is basically a romcom.
> 
> Happy holidays, Jaz and Zutara Nation! Hope y'all enjoy this. It was fun. (And a great distraction from literally everything else in my life lol)
> 
> Podfic available on [**Spotify**](https://open.spotify.com/episode/2PXTmyPGNKM6J9KCzCuLJa?si=90EyQ_9bQOyzn91wD6kJ5A) (if that's more your style)!

__

_Cover art by @feeplings ([Twitter](https://twitter.com/feeplings) | [Instagram](https://instagram.com/feeplings) )_

* * *

_“Sure, I know where most things are but  
give me enough time and I can lose anything_

_I have had enough practise  
at sliding things under the bed when no one is watching._

_And I know  
You are always in the last place I look.”_

— Excerpt from _“And Found”_ by Sarah Kay _  
  
_

* * *

_20 Dec, 4:59PM_

**JIN [SMS]** : Hey! Zuko, right? It’s Jin, from the tea shop. I hope this isn’t too forward but your uncle gave me your number and I thought you were cute so I was wondering if you wanted to go get some coffee some time? Or do you prefer tea haha…

* * *

She had brushed every last tangle out of her hair a good ten minutes ago but she stared, still, at her reflection and continued to brush with intention—decidedly forcing her peripheral vision from looking at her older brother. Sokka, however, had never let her get away with anything quite so easily and he wasn’t about to start.

After a moment of stunned silence where he stared at her, open mouthed, via her full-length mirror, Sokka blinked furiously and breathed out a laugh.

“Do you… do you want to run that by me again?”

“Not really, no,” she answered.

“Katara—”

“I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up about this,” she said abruptly, cutting him off. Her voice got higher, delivery much faster than usual. Her neck tensed, she swallowed, and she crossed her arms against her chest. “I mean—we hang out with Zuko all the time.”

“You’re going on a pretend date with a guy you’ve been pining over since you were fourteen—”

“ _I have not!_ ” she denied.

“Oh stop lying, you _know_ I’m right,” he replied. And before she could argue, he continued. “You’re going on a pretend date with him to set him up with his real date with this Jen person—”

“Jin.”

“Irrelevant!” he said, gesturing with both hands, as if to say that the details were of no import. “Katara, have you seen a romcom? Ever?”

She rolled her eyes. “What is your point?”

“Do I need to have one?” he said. “This is just… this is so stupid, just go on the date, and call it what it is, for Spirits’ sake!”

“It’s not like that!” she said, adamant. “It’s not a real date, I’m just—”

“I’m just so tired,” he said, sighing, rolling his eyes, and falling back on his little sister’s bed.

“Ugh. I hate you.”

Katara turned her back to him again and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She gathered a portion of her hair and arranged it into a tight, slightly high ponytail. Eyeing herself from head to toe, she frowned at her reflection. Part of her wondered if she looked like she was trying too hard, another part of her wondered if she wasn’t trying hard enough, and another part asked what did it matter if she tried or didn’t—he didn’t like her like that, right?

She stared and stared for a few seconds more and huffed. She pinched her cheeks repeatedly. Behind her, Sokka groaned again.

“Why can’t you just ask the guy out?” he asked, dragging his hands along the sides of his face.

“’Cause I don’t—”

“Give me a break, Kitkat.”

“For the last time, we’re just friends!”

Sokka scoffed. “Said exactly everyone in a romcom who’s _just_ about to find out they’re not _just_ friends. You’re a walking John Green novel—not derogatory.”

“You read too much fanfiction.”

“I’m right and you know it.”

* * *

Zuko could not remember the last time that he looked at himself in a mirror for this long. He said nothing and scowled at his own reflection.

From beside him was his study desk, which had a laptop on top of it. The tiny green light by the webcam was on. On the screen was a younger girl with dark, messy hair with an overgrown fringe that covered her unseeing eyes. She was resting the weight of her head on the palm of her hand and she pouted. A few seconds of white noise and silence later, she said, “Stop fussing already. I think you look great.”

“Th—” he started to say and turned immediately to face her. Then realised. Zuko frowned. “I hate you.”

“You went quiet for like five minutes and I don’t know why I’m still here,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m guessing you’re still messing with your hair.”

“I was not!” he denied. Toph smirked.

“She’s right, Zuzu,” said a voice by his open door. He saw his sister poised by his doorframe, arms crossed against her chest. She was smirking too and she quirked a knowing, neatened brow at him.

“Get out of my room!” he yelled. He felt the blood rush to his face.

“What are you getting all made up for anyway?” Azula asked.

“He’s got a date with Katara,” said Toph before Zuko could say anything.

“ _Toph!_ ”

“What?” was her only response, unbothered.

“ _Oh?_ ” Azula asked, her voice turning singsong.

“It’s _not_ a date,” he argued.

“Aw, the Zuzu-brand denial says otherwise,” she said.

“Get out of my room, Azula,” he demanded, to no avail. She went further into his room and stood behind her brother as he stood in front of his full-length mirror. She put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed.

“Did you _actually_ do it?” she asked. “Did you finally ask her out?”

Zuko huffed and shrugged her hands away, as if he were brushing away a fruit fly. Azula stood by, unperturbed and growing more amused by the second.

“It’s not a real date,” Toph answered, still present on the screen of his laptop. “He got asked out by some girl at Iroh’s tea shop and he was too embarrassed to say no, and Katara found _that_ out and that he’d never been on a date before—”

“ _No,_ ” Azula gasped, mocking joy in her voice. She covered her mouth with her hands.

“ _Toph!_ ” he reprimanded again.

“She’d find out eventually,” she said, unbothered. “Better to rip the bandaid off now, Sparky.”

“This is so mortifying,” he mumbled.

“Zuzu, _tell me_ that’s not true…” said Azula. “Tell me you’ve been on a date—” A pause. “I mean… what about Mai?”

“He was just driving her to her dates with Ty Lee,” Toph replied. “He just sulked around a Starbucks for twelve hours until Mai was ready to go home.”

“ _Goodbye!_ ” he said, slamming his laptop shut. He exhaled through his nose forcefully, the way a dragon might huff out smoke. He grit his teeth.

Meanwhile, Azula looked at him with a mocking pout. She put on an affected, baby-like voice and said, “You never told me any of that.”

“You didn’t have to know!” he said, aggrieved and humiliated. “You’d just make fun of me.”

“I would never…” she started, faux offense on her features, and she put a hand over her heart.

Zuko gave her a look and blinked once. Azula’s Cheshire grin returned.

“Okay, I would—” she admitted. “Oh, but Zuzu…”

“I’m so out of here,” he said, grabbing his wallet and putting it in his back pocket.

“Wait—wait, okay, no, wait right here,” she told him. She rushed out the room before he could try to argue. Zuko did not know why he did what he was told but he did so anyway. His sister returned not more than a minute later and she was holding a dark blue, rectangular bottle that read _Issey Miyake_ on the front.

“Okay, bring out your wrists,” she told him. Despite the lingering doubt, he did as he was told. She uncapped the bottle and spritzed the bottle twice on his wrists.

“Okay, don’t rub. Pat twice. Now pat by your ears. Roll up your sleeves.”

Zuko did as she said. As he rolled up his sleeves, he asked, “Where did you get this?”

“In Ursa’s stuff,” she said, flippant as ever.

“Don’t call her that, she’s our mom.”

“Please, we haven’t seen that woman since before we were teenagers—you might be easy, Zuzu, but she’s going to have to earn that from _me_. Anyway, this is Noren’s, I think, so whatever. He won’t mind,” she said, helping him roll up his other sleeve. “Pat your wrists by the bend of your elbow.”

“Why am I doing this?” he asked, though he did it anyway.

“It’s the French way to do it.”

“Why?”

“So you smell nice if the girl kisses you—”

“Azula!”

“Shut up. You’ll thank me later,” she said and she handed him the bottle. “Now, wait ‘til I’m gone, then spritz it in the air, wait a second, and walk past the cloud for the full effect.”

She smiled. There was something he did not trust in the sharpness of her eyes. Zuko only frowned at her and she was not fazed by it.

“Have fun on your date, Zuzu!”

He watched her leave, holding the bottle in his hands. And when he was alone in his room, his eyes darted around his surroundings—as if to make sure that the coast was clear. And when he was certain that it was, he did as his sister told him to do.

He coughed and raised the collar of his shirt to his nose to take a quick whiff. He shrugged and returned to the mirror.

He flattened his hands by the frizz by the side of his hair. Then, he ruffled it again. It took an immeasurable amount of self-control to not reach for the pomade. He did not know why he was trying so hard—it wasn’t as if she liked him like that, right?

* * *

Katara was standing by the gate of her house by the time his red car rolled into her street. Sokka was standing behind her, on the other side of the gate, and peering through the gate’s bars. She smiled and waved as the car rolled in. Her toes curled inside her shoes. With the passenger-side door facing her, Zuko put the car in neutral and got out before she could open the door herself.

He jogged to the other side and she stopped to look at him—all dressed up in a beautiful dark red jacket and a loose, golden tie around his neck that matched the golden dragons embroidered by the hem of the jacket. She, in her plain, pale blue cardigan, fought the grin forming on her face and restricted it to a tight-lipped, barely contained smile.

“Hi,” he said, running his fingers through his hair once, only for it to return to its tasteful state of disarray. “You look nice.”

“You look like you’re going to a party,” she told him. “We’re just hanging out, you didn’t have to dress up.”

“Oh. Well, I, uh—” he stammered and pulled at the hem of his shirt. He ran his fingers through his hair again. “I... I just thought I should dress the part. You know, for Jin.”

“Very method,” Katara said, narrowing her eyes and nodding. He didn’t need to know that she felt something in the middle of her chest drop. Was it her heart?

Who was to say?

“Very cool. Cool, cool, cool,” she added. He did not hear her as he opened the passenger-side door for her and gestured for her to enter. Katara chuckled and shook her head. She got in and Zuko jogged back to his side and opened the car door. Just as he did, however, Sokka yelled.

“Hey! Jerks!” Katara rolled down her window.

“What?” she yelled back.

“You two are idiots!”

* * *

Zuko didn’t listen to the radio, she knew. She also knew that if she simply took his phone from its dock, unlocked it with her own face as she was programmed into it (as most of their friends were; she oft tried not to look into it), and changed his playlist, he would not utter a single word of complaint.

However, the temptation to check on his messages with Jin would simply drive her insane. Of course, she did not make a habit of checking her friends’ messages in general. She only ever opened the application on other people’s phones when they ask her to send a message on their behalf—things like that, as she wasn’t an absolute monster who simply invaded other people’s privacy.

The only reason Katara even knew that Zuko had a date with Jin coming up was because she’d been holding his phone and changing the playlist to an album that she’d preferred and the message notification came up. She’d accidentally pressed the notification and saw the message.

Upon receipt of the message, she’d then found out the rest—that he did not know how to reply. How did he not know how to reply, she’d asked, to which he’d said that he had simply never been in that kind of situation before. To which she’d encouraged him to reply, to accept, and to see where it could go with Jin. He’d rolled his eyes and said that he would think about it. He’d begged her not to answer for him and that he would simply answer on his own afterward.

She’d mentioned that she needed to do a little last-minute Christmas shopping after finals and that they could go out—as friends, of course, but it could be a date simulation, she’d suggested. A pretend date, just to prepare him, she’d reasoned. She did not know why he agreed to it but he did. Maybe he was just being nice—as he so often was, anyway.

A long story made short, she looked at his phone in silence then and decidedly looked away.

“On your date, you’d better bring her flowers or chocolate or something,” she said after a long, long five seconds of silence.

Zuko chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head. “Check the back seat.”

“Wha—”

Katara turned to see that the back seat did, in fact, have flowers and chocolates. She settled back on her seat and she playfully hit his arm.

“What the hell?” she asked with a grin on her face. She shook her head and turned back around to reach for the chocolates in the back seat.

“I knew Sokka would be watching,” he said, hands on the steering wheel, and eyes staring straight ahead. “The flowers don’t go with my curtains so I guess you can keep them.”

“You didn’t actually have to get me anything,” she said as she managed to get the chocolates that had managed to slide farther than she might have liked.

“The chocolates I’m happy to take back,” he said.

“Ooooh, fancy!” she said in triumph. “What are these?”

“Gin truffles.”

Her jaw dropped in glee. “Yeah, you’re not getting these back.”

“I figured,” he said, rolling his eyes but she still noticed the self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

“Okay, so—” she said as she opened the box. She took a truffle and bit into it.

“So…”

“The thing about a date is just… it’s not even anything too special, really. You’re just hanging out with another person with the full understanding that you two like each other, and you’re just trying to see if you end up liking each other a little more.”

“Is that the textbook definition?”

“Ha ha,” she mocked. Without thinking, she reached and offered half of the truffle to him by hovering the chocolate just against his lips. He ate it without question. The exchange did not take more than a second. Katara continued, “So, y’know, just think we’re… hanging out.”

“We hang out all the time,” he argued.

“Point stands,” she said. “Pretend it’s different.”

“I just have to pretend like I like you,” he said teasingly.

“You can at least _pretend_ like it’s easy,” she said, playfully and lightly hitting his arm again. She tried to ignore the fact that she felt her blood rush to her cheeks—and the fact that she felt something in her chest drop, again. She swallowed.

“Sorry, I—” he said. “I didn’t mean for that to sound like—”

“It’s _fine_ ,” she said. “I’m not _actually_ mad. I mean—we’re friends.”

“Just friends.”

“Exactly.”

* * *

For the most part, they were just hanging out.

They’d been hanging out for years and this shouldn’t have been—and it wasn’t—any different to any other time that they’d spent together.

Luckily for him, that meant that he had quite the handle on his emotions. If she knew how his eyes kept darting to her at every chance they got, she said nothing about it. For most of this faux date, Zuko hardly even said anything without her prompt. She had an idea and he was happy to go along with whatever she wanted.

They shopped. They got takoyaki from the one good stand in the food court, and then frozen yogurt right after. Next to the yogurt place was a small arcade—in which they spent a considerable amount of time. Katara had even managed to get him inside a photobooth and said that it was standard date-behaviour for them to get “cute couple photos” inside whenever the opportunity presented itself. She’d told him that he would get a ton of brownie points with Jin if he were the one to suggest the photobooth on their date.

Zuko said nothing and just allowed himself to get dragged. He did not quite know how to act in front of the camera and when she saw this, she held his face in one hand and squeezed his cheeks together just as the camera snapped a photo. He’d rolled his eyes but he could not contain his smile—and even then, he could only ever look at her.

Afterward, there were the basketball hoops, the racing games, the old Dance Dance Revolution machine that had definitely seen better days about a decade ago. The lights hurt his eyes and the place smelled like stale popcorn, sweet and sour candy, and sweat. The random beeps and the sound of artificially recorded gunshots from the many, many military-based games were borderline overwhelming.

It was a good time, not unlike many of the other times they’d spent together over the years. It did nothing to settle the fluttering in his stomach but so trained was he in the ways of swallowing that back down.

By the time night fell, he’d taken her to a bar-restaurant owned by an old friend for dinner. Katara was on her second mojito when she realised that he was still working on the one lemonade he’d ordered when they first sat down. Before them was a whole spread that she’d mostly ordered—calamari, fried cheesy mussels, spicy sizzling gambas al ajillo with mushrooms.

He’d picked off a shrimp with a toothpick and ate it when she took his drink and took a sip.

“Is this just lemonade?” she asked, making a face at how sour it was. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me Mr ‘Never-Been-On-a-Date’ has also never had a drink. Your life can’t be _that_ sad.”

He gingerly took his drink back from her and took a sip. “It _is_ that sad but also, I’m Mr ‘Driving-You-Home’ tonight and I’m not a complete dick.”

“Right,” she agreed, narrowing her eyes and nodding. She raised her hand and when she caught June’s eye, she tapped at her glass to indicate a refill. “Not _completely_ , you right.”

“I’d appreciate you not going too hard with it, tonight, though,” he said, reaching to gently lower her refill-asking hands for her. “I know it’s Christmas but carpet cleaning’s a real pain in the ass.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some people throw up when they’re drunk,” he explained. “It happens.”

“Oh _no_ ,” she said. “I didn’t realise you were Uber for Drunks.”

“Yeah, 5 stars on the App Store. The riders tip like shit, though.”

Katara laughed. “ _See?_ You’re hilarious! Jin would love you! Anybody would!”

“Sure,” he replied as he felt heat rise to his cheeks. Zuko reached to scratch the back of his neck and pulled at his hair there. One, two. Release. He exhaled and fought the urge to bite his lip.

“I’m serious!” she said. June came to their table and replaced her mojito with a third one wordlessly. Katara immediately took the glass and took a sip. “You’re like a… a… a total fucking knockout, like—you’ve got this… this like, white knight thing going on with the... like, the-uh—dark b-backstory vibe thanks to the whole… y’know.”

With her pointer finger, she pointed at her eye and gestured circles over her left eye. Zuko nearly choked on a mushroom.

“ _Wow_ ,” he said. Prolonged and deep, and spoken with his one good eye wider than it usually is.

“Was that too much?” she said, slurred though still in a sudden, fluctuating state of drunken panic. “Oh, that was too much, I’m so sorry—”

“No, you’re fine, it’s just—Agni, you are _gone_.”

“I am not gone,” she argued. “I’m _fine_ —this is fine, every-er-ev… woah, that’s so hard to say all of the sudden like, but like it’s just fine, everylything is f-fine, it’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. It’s all fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Which is Katara-speak for fucking wasted,” he said. She sipped at her drink again. The glass was now half empty. “Your dad’s going to kill me for this.”

“Kill you for what?”

“Just… y’know—”

“No, I don’t know…” she said. “You’ve not drive-driven me h-home like this before, right?”

“You need to eat more,” he said, pushing the food back at her. He thought that maybe he should order more garlic bread… or any kind of carbohydrate. Maybe a pizza. “Alcohol won’t kill you as much if you get a bit more food in you.”

“ _Zuko.”_

“Just drop it, Katara,” he said. “Alright?”

He would not look at her. He kept trying to get June’s eye. When he did, he offered a quick forced smile and waved a hand—the universal gesture of a man who had other things to ask his server. June rolled her eyes.

“Oh no,” Katara said after a moment. Zuko looked at her. She’d looked so down and defeated, her hands on her lap, and her eyes wide and staring at the floor. For a moment, he feared that she was about to get sick on him. Then, she put a hand over her heart and looked at him with wide eyes, slouched and slumped on her chair, and asked, “Uh- _I_ was carpet cleaning, wasn’t I? … It was _me._ ”

“Katar—oh _no_.”

There were tears in her eyes by the time she looked up at him. Zuko swallowed and every muscle in his body from the waist up tensed.

“I’m _so_ sorry,” she said, voice heavy with sudden emotion, though higher than her usual tone in her current state of inebriation. “I’m not—I’m not like this, I swear, I’m so sorry. We were—” A pause as she swallowed. When she spoke, her voice was affected with that known alcohol-affected kind of slur. “We were having such a nice time and you’re so great and I just ruined it.”

Katara sniffl ed.

Then, June arrived to their table. She had a hand on her hip and when she raised a brow at Zuko at first, he did not see it as his eyes were then glued to his, for the moment, slightly sobbing companion. June cleared her throat.

“Some time today, Pouty?”

“O-oh, yeah,” he said, quickly looking up at her. “Could we get like a coffee? Maybe some water—or a coke or something? And a hangover pizza?”

With a scoff, June rolled her eyes and pouted. “Coming right up.”

“Thank you!” Zuko managed to say to her as she walked away.

Meanwhile, in front of him, Katara’s expression had changed. She wiped her sniffling nose with the sleeve of her cardigan. She narrowed her eyes and stared at a random piece of the floor for a certain amount of time, though clearly her thoughts were elsewhere.

“Wait, how I—who—when was I drunk? How did I—?”

“On your last birthday party a few months ago?” he answered. The next sentences, he said as if he weren’t entirely sure of what he was saying as the end of all of them sounded like he’d meant to ask them as questions. “Early July. Jet didn’t show up ‘cause he was arguing with that one sleezeball on Twitter who was calling Darcy abusive, and shit-talking Pride & Prejudice, and everybody who likes it as classist and elitist and capitalist scum. I mean—you agreed with everything Jet was saying but he still skipped out on your birthday party. You kept checking your phone for notifications. Ringing any bells?”

“But you weren’t… you weren’t there—hic!” she argued, wagging a finger at him. “You weren’t at my birthday party either.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I was,” he said. “I mean, yeah, I was late but… you were kind of busy.”

Katara looked at him. A sudden, split-second brightness came to her eyes as she recalled.

“Y-you got me cake,” she said. “It was… it was ice cream cake. Mango Bravo. There were… _sparklies_.”

“Yeah, you got it,” he said, managing a grin. “I only know about Jet ‘cause you kept talking about him. And what he did. And Sokka only asked me to take you home ‘cause he was going to spend the night at Suki’s and settle the tab.”

“I don’t rember—rermbember—rem-remember… _that_.”

“You wouldn’t have,” he said. “You were… you were pretty wasted at that point.”

Suddenly, she gasped and she reached for Zuko’s arm. She clutched it in a vice grip.

“Am I going to forget tonight?” she asked, pulling his arm to her. Her voice had become incredibly high-pitched. Zuko could only laugh though he was only too aware of the blood and warmth rushing to his cheeks. “I-on—I don’t wanna forget tonight!”

“Relax, you won’t forget tonight,” he said, covering one of her hands with his free one.

Just then, June returned with a large mug of hot coffee. She placed it on the table. There were three packets of brown sugar with the saucer that it came with, and two packets of cream. A large mug of instant coffee that, he estimated, would cost him roughly the same as a short drink from Starbucks, since June would be charging him. All the same, Zuko offered her a small, cordial smile in thanks.

“She—she _pretty_ ,” said Katara as June walked away, her vowels prolonged and longing.

“ _Please_ don’t hit on June. I don’t know if I can handle that today,” he begged . She released his arm then with particular dramatic flare.

“I’m not!”

“You didn’t even have much to _drink_ —” he lamented. “It’ll wear off in a few minutes; you’ll be fine. If you do end up feeling sick, I can help you to the women’s room.”

“ _How_ have you never been on a date?” she asked, incredulous, as she leaned in to him from across the table. As she spoke, she gestured passionately. “Like, for real? You’re _perfect_.”

Zuko smiled like he couldn’t help it, rolled his eyes, and looked away. “I mean, who knows?”

“But I—I just—you’re _so_ pretty,” she said, reaching for his hand and holding it in hers. Zuko did not pull away but he did not move, suddenly petrified by the bare touch of her skin on his. With her other hand, she gestured flamboyantly. “You’re _so_ pretty, Zuko. And you’re just—you could ask out anyone, ever, in your whole life!”

She pulled at his hand then. Before he could say anything, she held his hand so that the back of his hand was against her cheek. He was nearly fully leaning on the table that was between them. She had nearly knocked over the overpriced instant coffee she had been served. Still, she kept going. “And _Jin_ asks you out? _Jin?!_ Psh! What’s _that_ even about? Who _is_ this Jin person? What’s _Jin_ got that nobody else has? I don’t even know Jin but I’m just—I—what does she got that—that you’d go out with her, I mean, wh-why? _Why?_ ”

“I…I never actually said yes to Jin,” he stammered, his one good eye wide as he looked to the blue of her eyes. Neither her gaze nor her pull of his hand could get him to pull away and despite her state, she pulled the truth from his sober lips without trying. “Sh-she asked me but I—I didn’t reply.”

“You what?! You left her on read?” she asked quite loudly. Her grip on him loosened and it was then that he settled back to his seat, hands solidly to himself and out of further reach. “But I told you to say yes!”

“I don’t do everything you tell me to!” he barked back, crossing his arms against his chest.

June, again, returned with a small pizza with a fried egg on top. She put it atop the table next to the still-hot, still-untouched instant coffee that nobody wanted.

“Your girlfriend going to be okay?” she asked Zuko.

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“I’m not his girlfriend!”

The both of them mirrored each other, both their arms against them in the same way, and they decidedly did not look at each other. They both ignored the blush on their cheeks that neither of them wanted to address. Once again, June rolled her eyes and dusted her hands off on her apron.

“Yeah, I don’t get paid enough for this,” she mumbled as she walked away.

“You didn’t reply to her?” Katara asked. “Then what was this whole day for—this day was supposed to help you get ready and—”

“I never agreed to that! _You_ decided that!” he replied. “I promised you nothing—we were just hanging out!”

“Then what’s wrong with Jin? Why won’t you go out with her?”

“Oh, now you’re on _her_ side—you just said you don’t even really want me to go out with her!”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to go out with her, it’s that we’ve spent this whole day trying to—”

“No, that was _you_. That was _your_ decision. I just wanted to—”

“Wanted to _what?_ ”

His breaths were heavy. He swallowed it down and licked his lips. Zuko then started to reach to his back pocket for his wallet.

“Yeah, okay, I think you’ve sobered up enough by now, I should—it’s time to take you home.”

Katara slammed her hand on the table. It shook the coffee mug. “No, what were you going to say? You wanted to what?”

“I just wanted to hang out! With my friend! Okay?!” he shouted. He huffed a breath through his nostrils and grit his teeth. “Listen, I—I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, let’s just go.”

He’d tucked a few bills under the saucer beneath the coffee mug—sufficient enough for the food, the drinks, and a substantial tip for June besides.

“Don’t you walk away from me!” she said, clutching her bag and remaining in her seat. All the alcohol at that point had evaporated from her system.

“I’m not even walking away, I just said let’s _go_ , Katara.” He was standing up by then. He licked his lips. He could feel the pulse from the vein on his neck throbbing, and throbbing faster than he would have liked. The air around them felt too thick and too warm and too heavy to keep in his lungs.

He desperately, desperately wanted to get out of that room. The people around them, though there were far and few in between and though his peripheral vision was significantly limited, were starting to look at the scene. He could feel the stares digging down the back of his neck. Zuko grit his teeth.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Katara demanded.

“I don’t have to tell you everything, alright?”

“When I’ve _wasted_ this whole day with you, I think I deserve to know what the hell is going on!”

Zuko could only stand there and stare silently.

He watched Katara swallow, seeing the shine of regret clearly in her eyes, but her words rang like crystal in his head. He ducked his head and could not look at her for another second. He could not feel his body, like suddenly his fingers had become foreign concepts to him—part of him but detached from his control altogether. That feeling then spread all the way down to the tips of his toes.

“Zuko, I didn’t—” she started to say, started to stand. “I didn’t mean that, I—”

“I’m sorry I wasted your time today,” he said and raised a hand to her so that she would stay seated. And she did. Zuko reached for his phone from his jacket pocket and started formulating messages swiftly. Suddenly, he couldn’t get to his car fast enough.

“I’ll text Sokka to come get you. You just stay here. June won’t let you out of her sight until he gets here. You’ll be fine. I-I gotta go.”

* * *

Katara could only stare at the door.

It hadn’t even been a full minute since Zuko practically ran out of the restaurant but every breath felt like a decade. She knew then that people were looking at her. She knew what the heat behind her eyes meant. She looked at her uneaten food, her untouched coffee, the empty glass of his lemonade, and the three glasses that had once been mojitos and were now simply glasses of ice and a slice of lime in each.

There was something heavy stuck in her throat and no matter how many times she tried to swallow it, it was lodged in there too tightly. She licked her lips and poured a packet sugar into her now-lukewarm mug of coffee. After another packet, she stirred the coffee with a teaspoon.

She hardly noticed the presence that had materialised beside her.

“You ordering anything else, kid?” June asked.

“What?” she asked, looking up. The older woman’s expression had hardly shifted. She did not know if she looked angry, unimpressed, or simply, completely unfazed. It was too uniform to tell.

Katara managed an answer.

“O-oh, no, no, I—” she said. “He—he left that for the bill, does that cover it?”

June took the money he’d tucked under the saucer.

“More than enough,” she answered, pilfering through the bills as she spoke. Katara only kept stirring the coffee and she watched the little brown whirlpool without any particular interest. June threw her a look and said, “Kid, you had three mojitos and some fried shit. _All_ grease. And what are you, like, 21? You weren’t _that_ drunk.”

Katara slumped back to her seat. Her blue eyes, vacant. She could not feel herself breathe nor could she tell if her heart was still beating. Part of her wanted to cry. Another part of her knew that she was halfway there already. To no one in particular, she said, “I fucked up.”

“I’m not your therapist, princess. Take it up with someone who cares,” said June as she pocketed the bills and then started to pick up the plates of food. Katara made no move to contradict the action or her words. June grunted, sighed, and said, “But word to the wise—yeah. Yeah, you did.”

“What should I do?” asked the younger of the two, looking up at her with lost eyes.

“How the fuck should I know?” she answered. Plates expertly handled in one arm, June straightened up and let out a breath. She rested her free hand on her hip. “Here’s what I can tell you, though. That kid was into you.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Kyoshi help me, open your _eyes_ ,” she said. “It’s so stupidly obvious. And I’m not exactly what you call a big expert on men.”

“But he’s not,” Katara tried.

“He’s not… _what?_ ”

“He’s not… _into_ me.”

June threw her head back and groaned. The plates did not budge from her expert balance despite the motion. Katara would have been impressed if she were not so distracted.

“ _Ugh_. Give me a _break_. Listen—it’s not my job to convince you, sweetheart. I’m just calling it as it is,” she said. “And if I were you, I’d be running by now.”

“Huh?” Katara asked . “ _Running?_ ”

“You know where he’s parked, right?”

“Yes, but—?”

“The way I see it, you’ve got exactly one shot to fix this, kid,” said June. She leaned down a bit closer to Katara and, in a hushed, conspiratorial tone, she whispered with smirk and a cock of her head.

“Go get him.”

* * *

Despite not having had a single drink, he’d never felt more nauseated in his life. All he wanted to do was get to the chewable anti-emetic in his car’s first aid kit, drive home, and listen to Hozier’s self-titled album on repeat until he fell asleep. If he could even fall asleep.

He got to the passenger-side of his car when he reached for his phone in his jacket pocket, having felt it vibrate consecutively. It was Sokka.

_23 Dec, 10:11PM_

**SOKKA [SMS]** : ?????????? hello ???????????

 **SOKKA [SMS]** : dude what the fuck

 **SOKKA [SMS]** : ill be out in 10, be there in 30

 **SOKKA [SMS]** : fuck tell her to stay put

He stopped to formulate a reply.

_23 Dec, 10:13PM_

**ZUKO [SMS]** : We got into a fight. Don’t want to talk about it right now. Please just text me when you get her ho

“Zuko!”

The voice came from behind him. He’d pressed send from muscle memory alone.

Zuko turned around to see Katara running towards him. He stayed rooted to the spot, lips parted and feeling very dry, only all too suddenly. He blinked furiously, part of him wondering if this was a fever dream.

“Katara?” he said. “You—you’re supposed to be waiting for Sokka, I told June—”

“What is wrong with Jin?”

“ _What?_ ”

“You heard me.”

“I—” he stammered, unsure and unable to answer. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Answer me.”

“You know, I don’t really have to do anything for you right now, Katara,” he said, making a move to turn his back to her and jet towards the driver-side door. But she held him by the arm and spun him back to face her.

She was standing far too close for him to be able to breathe, walk away, or deny her. Not that denying her had ever been something that had been easy for him to do—or entirely possible, if he were to be completely honest with himself.

“No. No, you don’t,” she said, holding on to his arm as if she were trying to keep him in place… and keeping him from running away. “But I am asking you anyway— _what_ is wrong with Jin?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Why won’t you answer me?” she asked, pulling at his arm. Zuko swallowed. His chest felt too tight; his eyelids, too heavy. He could not look away from her even if he wanted to—and he did not want to. “Why do you keep avoiding the question?”

“I—” he said. He licked his lips again. Quietly, he finally said, “There’s nothing wrong with Jin.”

“Then why won’t you go out with her?”

“Because I don’t…” he started. “’Cause I don’t… like her like that.”

“Why not?”

He raised a brow at her. Lines formed in the space between his brows. “Do I _need_ a reason?”

“ _Yes,_ ” she said. “Because you’re you—and there is no way no one has ever wanted you. And there is _no_ way _you_ haven’t wanted _somebody_ at this point. Unless you… you don’t like people in that way and I’m just—”

“I… I like people, ” he managed to say. She was standing far too close to him and for far longer than he’d ever known. His eyes kept looking to the curve of her lips and he kept forcing himself to look her in the eye, to the point that that instruction was practically the sole, conscious sentence running through his mind.

“Okay,” she said. “So, let me ask you again— _what_ is wrong with Jin?”

“ _Nothing_ is wrong with Jin,” he answered. He pulled his arm away from her grasp with a certain force. His lungs demanded air and there was simply no way he would have been able to breathe if she continued to stand that close to him. He took a step back. He could feel his knees start to shake.

“It’s not about Jin!”

“Then what _is_ it about?” she asked. He could hear the emotion in her voice. The crackle of a cry just somewhere in the back of her throat and he knew it would break him. He was already halfway there.

“What was _today_ about?” she pressed.

“I—I just…” he stuttered. “You were just so excited about it and I—”

“No, no, no. This isn’t about me. _Don’t you make this about me—_ ”

“But of _course_ it’s about you!” he bellowed. Part of him was thankful that this parking lot was practically empty with nothing and no one else but his red car to bear witness to his breaking.

“You want to know what’s wrong with Jin? It’s you!” he confessed. “ _She’s not you!_ ”

You might have been able to hear a pin drop in the heavy silence that dropped in the space between them. Alas, there was the noise from the streetlights. There was the slow, steady rush of nearby, late-night traffic. There was the breeze that bore witness to this confession—not a single priest found for absolution. Looked like there was neither salvation nor redemption for him in sight.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he muttered. He covered his whole face with both his hands and exhaled deeply into his palms. It sounded like air leaving a sad, deflated balloon. He kept his head down and he dragged his fingers through his scalp.

He was never going to be able to look her in the eye again.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he muttered again. The vowel longer that time. His lips were suddenly very, very dry. He licked them and bit at the skin of his lower lip, dragging what he could away with his teeth. There was hardly anything to drag; it did not stop his teeth from trying.

“You—” Katara started. He still could not look at her. He looked only at the reflection of the tinted glass of his car’s window. “But you… you never—I thought—”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, hands trembling between them as he gestured for her to stop. “You don’t have to do anythi—I mean, you can just forget it, I—”

He didn’t see it coming.

Not even in the worst corners of his mind when his dreams tempted him into certain fantasies did he ever even allow himself the space to sully her honour in his imagination. He never dared to dream that she would take him by the lapels of his overly expensive red jacket and pull him, once and for all, to her in a kiss that would change his life.

But she did.

He did not kiss her back.

If he were to be completely honest with himself, he didn’t quite know how. He never got this far in the fabricated fictions he’d dreamt up with her. It was a miracle in and of itself that she was his friend. This was beyond anything divine. This was practically primordial—the grounds for an alternate universe right before him… a parallel reality, a different dimension, an altogether foreign plane of existence where someone like her might actually want him back.

Zuko stood completely still, hands frozen in time though shaking, while Katara kept her hands on his jacket. When she parted from him, slowly, all Zuko could think was this was not how he thought his first kiss would go. Now that he’d thought about it, he’d never quite thought of it at all.

Katara kept her face close to his, her lips a promise away. Zuko managed to get his trembling hands to hers—the ones that still held him close. And he could not understand.

“You don’t have to do this,” he muttered to her, low and soft. “You don’t have to pity me. It’s okay.”

“I’m not trying to pity you,” she said, a smile in her voice. She shook her head and put a hand against cheek. Her thumb brushed just against the border of his scar. “I’ve loved you since I was 14.”

“ _What—!_ ” he started. “ _No…?_ ”

Despite himself, he leaned into her touch and his eyes closed but for a moment. He sighed, opened his eyes, and tried to say, “But, I—”

“I didn’t think you liked me,” she said, cutting him off. “You don’t know how many times I’ve tried to move on from you. And I don’t think I ever really did.”

“I never even tried,” he confessed. He leaned in closer, their foreheads together. She smelled like white rum, coffee, and lavender all together. He licked and bit his lower lip. When he spoke, it was low and practically a whisper.

“It was always you. Even when you hated me when we were kids and I was stupid and I—”

“I’ve never hated you, Zuko.”

“There’s just no way,” he said breathlessly. Though he made no move to try to wake himself from this apparent dream. A smile started to form on his lips against his better judgment of reality. “ _Really?_ ”

“You are just so cute, come here—”

Both hands on his face now, she pulled him to her again and this time, his body figured out how to move. His hands went from her hands and brushed down to her arms, to her elbows, to her waist; there, they settled and this time, he knew how to pull her to him too. He kissed with the shyness of a young man who had never been kissed before, but with all the wanting of a boy who had wanted this for as long as he could ever remember wanting something. When she pulled away for a breath, his lips trailed after her in protest, already wanting more.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She brushed the tip of his nose with hers.

Zuko chuckled.

“You spend most of your life hearing and… thinking and… _believing_ that no one would ever want you, you kind of start to believe it at some point,” he said.

“ _Zuko._ ”

“I didn’t—I didn’t think you could. Or would. I mean—who would, y’know?”

“This whole time?”

“It’s just you, Katara. It’s always, only ever been you.”

* * *

_20 Dec, 4:59PM_

**JIN [SMS]** : Hey! Zuko, right? It’s Jin, from the tea shop. I hope this isn’t too forward but your uncle gave me your number and I thought you were cute so I was wondering if you wanted to go get some coffee some time? Or do you prefer tea haha…

_23 Dec, 11:54PM_

**ZUKO [SMS]** : Sorry for the late reply. I actually have a girlfriend but this was really nice of you to ask. Thanks and hope you have a good holiday :)

 **jIN [SMS]** : Oh haha this is so embarrassing OTL… no worries tho! Maybe we could be friends? I just think you’re neat! Happy holidays to you and your gf btw!

 **ZUKO [SMS]** : She says thanks and she thinks you seem neat too. Friends sounds good… and I may know someone you might like if you’re into girls?

 **ZUKO [SMS]** : Sorry if that sounds creepy…

 **JIN [SMS]** : Haha! Not at all! Your Bi-Fi is on point.

 **JIN [SMS]** : I’m not NOT interested if you say they’re cool…

 **ZUKO [SMS]** : Well…

 **ZUKO [SMS]** : I have a sister.


End file.
